After a decent night’s sleep at Sutton’s mansion, Delaney was feeling somewhat better about her situation. Granted, she was still freaked out, and if she thought about it too much, her whole body would start to shake. On the upside, it was comforting to have Corbin by her side. Those first few moments when he put the gun to Anton’s head, she thought he was nuts. But if he hadn’t realized Anton was leading them into a trap, they’d be dead right now.

Delaney had no doubt that the security detail Anton referred to, the ones waiting at her condo, were Hugh and his men. A shiver ran down her spine. How long could they keep evading Hugh? Were they just postponing the inevitable? And now, it was not only her life at risk but also Corbin’s. She hugged her arms, shaking off the fears. Better to try and focus on the positive.

They were in Corbin’s SUV, headed to a shop to pick her out a wig. Corbin glanced sideways at her. “You okay?”

An automatic smile plastered over her face—the one she used on stage to suppress the jitters. “Yeah.”

“You’re a terrible liar.”

She turned in surprise. “What?”

He glanced at her hands. “You keep digging those fingernails into your palms and we’re gonna have to get a set of pliers to pull them out.”

She looked down, realizing she was clenching her hands. “Oh.” She opened her hands, which felt stiff from the tension.

“You know, you’d be a whole lot prettier if you’d smile once in a while.”

Her eyes widened, then she laughed, recognizing the lyrics of a popular song. “‘Lullaby’ by Shawn Mullins.”

“Yep.” A smile slid over his lips giving him a boyish, mischievous appearance that was even harder to resist than his usual tough-guy expression. She allowed herself a moment to check him out. Her eyes slid over his rugged profile, the defiant set of his chin, his defined biceps, even more pronounced with him holding the steering wheel, his chiseled abs. She noted how the t-shirt and jeans seemed to be an extension of him.

A dart of warmth shot through Delaney with enough force to heat the whole West Coast. Sheesh. Crazy that she’d be thinking about how good-looking Corbin was in the middle of a crisis. She angled toward him, curious to know more about the man who was throwing her for a loop and making her rethink her stance on steering clear of a relationship. “Are you a fan of folk rock?”

“I like all types of music. Rock, jazz, country.”

She pursed her lips. “Hmm … a man with eclectic tastes. Impressive.”

A hint of a smile pulled at his lips. “I’m glad you find something about me impressive. I was starting to wonder.”

The comment broadsided her, rendering her speechless. There were many things she found impressive about Corbin Spencer, hence the problem. She could tell from his sly expression that he was teasing her, which helped relax her a little.

He glanced at her. “You were amazing last night, by the way.”

The compliment settled into her chest like a warm ray of sunshine. “Thanks.” Of all the people in the audience, she’d been most aware of him. It was gratifying to know that he’d paid attention to her performance.

“You have such a unique voice. Where did you learn to sing like that?”

“My mother loved to sing. From the time I was a kid, she was always strumming on her guitar and singing … mostly Top 50 Billboard hits. She taught me to play the guitar and would get me to harmonize with her.” Those were some of the few happy memories Delaney had of her mother—before she became so addicted to drugs that she couldn’t function. One of the darkest days of Delaney’s life was the day her mother sold her guitar to buy drugs. But she wasn’t going to tell Corbin that.

“What was your mother’s name?”

“Angie.”

“Tell me about her.” Corbin’s voice was gentle, patient. Still, it touched a nerve.

Her jaw tightened as she balled her fists again. “What do you already know about her?”

“Facts, mostly that Sutton gave me.”

She remained silent, waiting for him to expound. Why was she still so dang sensitive where her mother was concerned? Maybe she should just get it out in the open so it wouldn’t be hanging between them. She felt like she was on a high dive, trying to decide if she should go into the water gently or just plunge right in. “My mother was an alcoholic and druggie,” she blurted. “She never could hold down a steady job, so we lived off food stamps and what little we could scrape together. Sometimes, when we got desperate, she’d sing at a local bar for a few extra bucks. Unfortunately, she drank up the profits before it did us much good.” Resentment sat like lead on her chest as she stared unseeingly at the road in front of them.

“I’m sorry.”

She nodded. “Thanks.” How many times had she heard those two empty words from well-wishers?

“Tell me about your mother’s relationship with Hugh.”

A surprised laugh gurgled in her throat. “You don’t pull any punches, do you?”

He shrugged. “I don’t have time to pull it out of you diplomatically. I need to know what type of person we’re dealing with.”

The words tumbled out like bricks against a cement floor. “A manipulator, a devil with a black heart. The meanest man I’ve ever laid eyes on.”

“So your mother and Hugh were romantically involved?”

Her hand went to her throat. “There was nothing romantic about it. But yes, they were involved.” She spat out the words like they were poison. “Even though my mother was ten years older than Hugh, she was beautiful … looked about the same age as him. Hugh was our landlord. We never had money to pay the rent. I’ll let you figure out the rest.” The beginning of a headache formed across the bridge of her nose. “How much farther to the wig store?” She was ready to be out of the SUV to give her space from Corbin and his probing questions.

“About ten more minutes.”

Delaney turned away from Corbin and looked out the window, letting her mind get lost in the passing buildings. The plan was for them to get Delaney a wig, then drive thirteen hours to Birchwood Springs, Colorado, the small town Corbin was from. Corbin insisted on going there because he was familiar with the terrain and people. Sutton contacted Milo, letting him know that Delaney was being moved to an undisclosed location and would remain there until the situation was resolved. Delaney argued that she had an album to record and couldn’t lose any time.

“You can’t record anything if you’re dead,” Corbin had said dryly.

He was right, of course. Although it was chilling to hear it put so bluntly. Then again, Corbin wasn’t one to mince words. Obviously! “But what about my things?” she’d asked. “Can I at least go back to my condo and get them? I’ll need my guitar to compose songs.” If she was going to be stuffed away in some remote place, she wanted to at least do that. She could get the songs written, then record them all at once. That way, she wouldn’t lose too much time.

Corbin had chuckled in amusement. “Are you listening to yourself? Going back to your condo would be a death sentence. Hugh has guys there waiting for you. Heck, for all we know, he could be camped out there himself.”

The thought of Hugh Allen or his men invading her personal space, going through her things, sent a shudder through Delaney. She wished she’d never met the Allens. Wished she could run away from this and never look back. If only.

In the end, Sutton had a complete wardrobe of clothes in Delaney’s size delivered to the mansion, along with a Gibson guitar. He even had a few items delivered for Corbin. Delaney argued that the nominal fee she was paying wouldn’t begin to cover the items, but Sutton dismissed her argument with a wave of his hand, telling her not to worry about it. From what Milo said, Sutton helped his girlfriend Leslie and her son, not asking a thing from them. It was obvious that Sutton Smith was not in the security business for money. Whatever his motivations, she was grateful he’d taken her on as a client.

“How did you become a country music star?”

The question jarred Delaney back to the present.

“After Tuck and I got divorced, I took a job at the Bluebird Café as a waitress. My co-workers knew how much I loved to sing. They were always joking that I sounded better than most of the people who took the stage. One evening, a performer had an emergency. I stepped in at the last minute, and a well-known agent Max Gillespie happened to be in the audience and wanted to represent me. Things took off quickly from there. The next thing I knew, I was signing with Montana Crew’s record label.”

“A rags-to-riches story,” he mused. “Do you know what the odds are that you would even get a job at the Bluebird, much less perform there? And then get picked up by an agent? Just like that? Wow. Incredible.”

She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “I was lucky, I suppose.”

“No, you’re good. Dang good.”

“Thanks.” It was surprising how much his approval meant to her. She was just about to launch into a series of questions about his past when he turned into the parking lot of the wig shop.

“We’re here.” He turned off the engine, a crooked smile tugging at his lips. “Let’s see what we can find for you to wear, Delores.”

She winced. “Dee,” she corrected. She was going to Birchwood Springs under the guise of Corbin’s girlfriend. She couldn’t use her stage name, so Sutton suggested she go by her real name Delores to keep things simple. She’d thought she’d buried Delores Millstead and didn’t relish the idea of digging her up again. But whatever, it was only temporarily. At any rate, she preferred the shortened version of her name.

He grinned. “All right, Dee.”

“What?” The intensity of his gaze burned through her. Sheesh. It was hard being in such a tight, enclosed space with Corbin Spencer. When he looked at her like that, she could hardly form a clear thought.

“Delaney fits you better.”

“Thanks. I agree.”

“But I suppose Dee will do, for now.”

She reached for her door.

He touched her arm, sending a buzz of awareness through her.

“What?”

“Let me get out first and come around to get you. Just to make sure.”

She glanced around, shaking off a shiver. It was only six a.m. They’d passed very few cars on their way over, and there was only one other car in the parking lot, which presumably belonged to the person who ran the shop. “You don’t think anyone followed us, do you?” Her voice dribbled off, unease trickling down her spine. Sutton had leaked information to make Hugh believe she was being taken to a safe house in Northern Cal. The hope was that by the time Hugh realized he’d been led on a wild goose chase, she and Corbin would be long gone. She’d even turned her phone over to Sutton for safe keeping, just to make sure Hugh couldn’t somehow track her on it.

“No, I don’t think we were followed. I watched as we drove and didn’t see anyone. But it doesn’t hurt to be cautious.”

She nodded, biting down on her lower lip.

Corbin came around and opened her door, keeping one hand close to his gun. Her skin crawled as she stepped out of the SUV. The empty air around them felt menacing, like someone could attack any second. She hated this! Feeling so vulnerable. She hated living in constant fear of what Hugh might do! Right after she was released from the hospital, after Tuck’s merciless beating that nearly took her life, she promised herself that she’d never cower to Tuck or his brother again. And here she was, running scared.

It wasn’t until they stepped through the doors of the shop that Delaney realized she’d been holding her breath. She sucked in air, feeling a little dizzy. Her heart rate spiked when she realized Corbin still had an arm around her. She could feel his fingertips through the thin fabric of her blouse, loved the hardness of his muscular torso against her. Heat rushed to her cheeks as she looked up at him. She cleared her throat. “I’m okay now. You can let go.”

Amusement lit his eyes as he grinned. “Pity,” he murmured, removing his arm. “I thought we fit together quite nicely.”

She wished he’d stop with the innuendos. It was hard enough to remain unaffected by him as it was. But to know that he also liked her … well, that took the attraction to a whole new level. She traced the outline of his lips, the firm shape of his jaw. Her eyes went to his neck, his prominent Adam’s apple so distinctly masculine. Recollections from her dream flooded her. She’d buried her fingers in his spiky hair, felt the delicious sensation of his lips against hers. The kiss had ignited a spark in her powerful enough to start an inferno. But with the all-consuming attraction came something unexpected—the feeling of belonging, of coming to the end of a long journey … finding the thing she’d searched for her entire life.

Corbin cleared his throat. She jumped slightly, embarrassment cloaking her like a stifling blanket. She’d been standing there, gaping at him. Meanwhile, Corbin and the store clerk were watching her. She stepped back, putting as much space as possible between her and Corbin.

The woman extended a hand, a professional smile touching her lips. “Hello, I’m Marissa Harris. Let’s see what we can help you find. I understand you want something completely different from your real hair.”

“Yes.” Delaney wasn’t sure how much Marissa knew about her situation, but she wasn’t about to divulge additional information.

Marissa motioned to a stool beside a mirror. “Have a seat. I have a few selections to get us started.”

Delaney sat down.

“Here, put your hair in this.” She handed Delaney a hairnet, then reached for a wig. “Let’s try this one first.” The good news is that with your dark eyes, the brown hair will look natural on you. She fitted the short cap of hair over Delaney’s head and adjusted it. Then she stepped back. “What do you think?”

Delaney’s first thought was that her hair hadn’t been this short since kindergarten. Her second thought was that she looked like she had an animal skin on her head. A laugh bubbled in her throat as she swallowed to stifle it. She looked so ridiculous! Before she could tell Marissa no, Corbin spoke up.

“Absolutely not. My woman would never wear that.”

This time, she couldn’t stop a chuckle from escaping. “Your woman?” She removed the wig and placed it on the counter. Yes, she was going to Birchwood Springs under the guise of Corbin’s girlfriend. The tone in his voice sounded so serious, matter-of-fact, that she could almost believe she really was his girlfriend. Would that be such a bad thing? Dang these renegade thoughts. Yes, it would be a bad thing, she answered, squelching any further thoughts on the subject.

His eyes locked with hers. “Yes, you are my woman.”

The certainty in his voice struck a chord inside her. His woman. She liked the sound of that. Blood pumped faster through her veins, making a swooshing sound against her temples. She looked at his lips, wondered if they’d feel and taste anything like she’d imagined in her dream. Her voice went higher as she laughed to relieve the tension, her words gushing out. “You sound like the Russian in Man From U.N.C.L.E., where the girl’s trying on clothes to pose as his fiancée, and he keeps telling her that his woman wouldn’t wear that.”

Corbin shrugged. “I assumed girlfriend would do the trick, but I guess we could elevate our situation. Boost you up to fiancée level.”

“Girlfriend is good,” she said quickly, her cheeks scorching like a sunburn. She swallowed hard, so glad he couldn’t read her thoughts. Relieved he didn’t know what she’d dreamt about him. Then she caught the mischievous glint in his eyes and realized he was teasing her again, enjoying watching her squirm. And she was rising to the bait. She scooted back in her seat, her chin lifting. All right, buddy. You wanna play games? Fine. I’ll play. “What would your woman wear?” she asked snippily.

He made a face, his eyes going to the wigs lined up on the counter. “Certainly not those.” He looked at Marissa. “No offense.”

She waved a hand. “None taken.”

Corbin looked thoughtful, his eyes scoping the options. He strode across the room and lifted a copper-brown wig off the mannequin head. “This one.”

Delaney wrinkled her nose. “Seriously? You don’t think it’s too red?”

Marissa tilted her head. “Try it on. It could work. I like the style.”

Delaney placed it on her head and pursed her lips, studying her reflection in the mirror. The bangs were wispy, the sides tapering around her face. The length came to her shoulders. Surprisingly, it looked pretty good. She looked like a different woman, yet still attractive. This was good. No one would recognize her with this on.

Marissa stepped up behind her and began fluffing the top. “You can add as much volume as you wish.”

“You like it.” Corbin quirked a satisfied grin. “I can see it on your face. Admit it.”

“You don’t know what I’m thinking,” she shot back, but couldn’t help but smile. “Okay, I do like it.” She rolled her eyes. “Who would’ve guessed … Captain America’s a fashion guru at heart.” It was cute how color seeped into his face.

“Is this one a go?” Marissa asked.

Delaney looked at Corbin, a thrill shot through her. She liked this energy between them. She’d never been as aware of a man before. “Would your woman wear this?”

His eyes caressed hers. “You’re wearing it, aren’t you?”

Her breath caught and all she could think about was that his eyes looked more gold than green today. She looked at Marissa who smiled as if to say, The two of you are great together.

“Of course, nothing looks as good as the blonde,” Corbin continued in a low, throaty tone, “but this will do for now.”

Another inference to her being his woman. And he liked her blonde hair. A swarm of butterflies took flight in Delaney’s stomach. She looked down to break the connection. Sheesh. She was trying to remain aloof around him, dodge the landmines, but she kept tromping right on top of them. These landmines wouldn’t destroy her limbs but her heart instead.

“I’ll get the care instructions and a special comb,” Marissa said, walking into the back.

The attraction was strong even with Marissa in the room. Now that she’d left, it was nearly unbearable. Her fingers itched to pull Corbin close, press her lips to his. She rubbed her hands on her jeans, fighting the temptation.

Corbin leaned back against the counter and folded his arms over his chest. “I guess my fashion sense comes from having a sister.”

How was it possible for a guy to look so good in a t-shirt and jeans? She could see the outline of his sculpted abs underneath his shirt. Focus on what he’s saying, she commanded herself. She fumbled to think of a sensible question. “What’s her name?”

“Addie.”

“Is she younger or older?” Delaney had always wished for a sister.

“Younger, by two years.”

“Do you have any other siblings?”

“Nope, just Addie.” He chuckled. “But trust me, she’s enough. A fireball. You’ll see when you meet her.”

She could hear the affection in his voice. It made her a little jealous that she had no one. Then she felt guilty. It wasn’t Corbin’s fault that her mother had died. Heck, even when her mother was alive, Delaney had been alone. At least now her mother wasn’t suffering, and she was free from Hugh’s clutches. “Tell me about the rest of your family.”

She touched the hair of the wig, fluffing it a little on top. It felt stuffy and constricting on her head, making her skin itch. She wondered if she’d ever get used to it.

“I was raised by my grandparents, Wallace and Lou Ella.”

She turned her full attention to him. “What happened to your parents?” A shadow crossed his features, his jaw tightening. She eyed him, waiting for a response. Normally, she didn’t make a habit of pushing her way into people’s personal space, but Corbin had asked her plenty of uncomfortable questions. Turnabout is fair play. Also, she was curious to know more about him.

“My parents died.”

“I’m sorry,” she said automatically. Then it occurred to her that she was using those same trite words she hated people saying to her. “How?”

His lips drew into a tight line, and she could feel him withdrawing. The two of them really weren’t that different. Corbin held his cards close too. She looked him in the eye, a tiny smile curving her lips. “You know about the skeletons in my closet. It should go both ways, right?”

Something shifted in his eyes, and she saw the hint of a smile. “Right.” His shoulders relaxed in acceptance. “My parents were on vacation in Mexico and were mugged outside their hotel. Shot and left in the street over a few measly dollars.” His eyes went hard, and she saw reflected in them the same sadness that plagued her.

She touched his arm. “I know it sounds hollow, but I really am sorry.”

He nodded. “Addie and I were raised by our grandparents.”

“I’m excited to meet them.” Something flashed in his eyes, giving her the impression she’d said something wrong. “What?”

He rubbed his neck. “My grandmother has Alzheimer’s. It’s bad. She no longer recognizes anyone.”

She caught the slight hitch in his voice. Saw a glimpse of Corbin she’d not seen before—the damaged part of him that spoke to her heart. No wonder she was so drawn to him. He looked at her, an understanding that defied words flowing between them. Like her, he knew what it was like to have his world turned upside down from violence—losing his parents the way he had. And now, he was losing his grandmother too. Her eyes misted as the words rushed out. “No matter how much it hurts, you’ll get through it. Just keep moving forward. That’s what she’d want you to do.”

Tears formed in Corbin’s eyes as he nodded and looked away.

“Okay, here we are,” Marissa said cheerily, then halted in her tracks, looking back and forth between them. “Oops, am I interrupting something?”

“No,” Corbin said, clearing his throat.

Marissa held out a bag. “You’re all set. I gave you some special shampoo and an instruction sheet. But let me go over the process with you as well. Make sure you don’t have any questions.”

Delaney nodded, her mind still on Corbin. Suddenly it hit her that despite the circumstance, she was looking forward to going to Birchwood Springs and getting to know Corbin’s grandfather and sister. The more time she spent around Corbin the more intrigued with him she became. Yeah, it wasn’t smart to fall for her bodyguard—to fall for anyone, especially with Hugh on her heels. Aside from the danger, her judgement was skewed when it came to men. She didn’t want to open herself up to get hurt again. The sensible thing to do would be to forget Corbin and focus on her career. That was her only sure path to safety. But yet, she couldn’t seem to help herself. She was so drawn to this man … had been from the moment she laid eyes on him.

“You ready?” Corbin asked when Marissa finished her spiel.

“Yep.”

He motioned with his head. “Let’s get on the road.”

She sighed. Thirteen hours alone with Corbin Spencer. How in the heck was she supposed to keep her head straight? When they got to the door, he put an arm around her, gathering her into the protection of his muscular body. At his touch, her cells swirled into action, sending heat racing up her neck.

When they stepped outside, an instant change came over him. His jaw went rock hard, his eyes intense as he scoped the area surrounding them. Thrilling didn’t even begin to describe this man. He was the type people made movies about … a rebel, maverick, and Captain America all rolled into one.

His eyes caught hers for one brief moment and he gave her a reassuring smile. Her heart melted as she smiled back. No amount of self-talk would be enough to protect her from Corbin. She was a lost cause for sure.